


Hold On, Pain Ends

by herefortheromance



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, Love Triangle, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-06 20:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16394351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herefortheromance/pseuds/herefortheromance
Summary: A story in which a girl becomes entangled between the deputy and the Seed family.





	1. Off the Radar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I haven't written in a long time. When I was a teen I would submit fanfics to Quizilla (remember that?) and then after that passed away I stopped. John Seed, ahem, *inspired* me to start again.  
> As much as I love raw, fast-paced, lustful stories between John Seed and the reader, this is going to be more of an involved saga (I hope).  
> Any comments are much appreciated. I hope you enjoy.

#  Chapter 1: Off the Radar 

You watched as two planes did acrobatics above the tree line. It was beginning to get dark, but you were certain one was John Seed’s personal aircraft. You could see the white star of Eden's Gate on the tips of the dark wings. The second plane was unmarked – perhaps a resistance member – and judging by the expert maneuvers they were a legitimately trained pilot. The two planes were chasing each other, shooting one another, back and forth. What was going on? Was John’s plane stolen? That would almost make sense, but John would _never_ have his beloved plane shot at- even to get it back from a thief. No, he would wait for them to land, and _then_ he would eliminate the unlucky bastard. No, what was happening in the dying light was a genuine air battle between John Seed and… _someone_. You had heard about the ‘deputy’- some military rookie running around Hope County. He was a target of the Seed family, and the Seed family a target of his. What made the most sense is that the two hunters had found each other and were fighting to the death below the stars.

The two planes were but silhouettes by the time the battle ended. You had lost track of which plane was which. Only when they had flown into a clearing could you tell which one was painted midnight black, but by the end of the fight they were so intertwined with the trees that you couldn’t distinguish them anymore. All you could see was that one plane had thick smoke coming out of it, and its agility had noticeably decreased. It didn’t look good for whoever was the pilot.Finally, the nose of the battered plane dipped down and disappeared into the trees nearby.

There was silence, aside from the victorious plane above. There was no explosion. _If it really was the deputy inside one of those planes…_ you thought, glancing at your ATV. Whether it was John or the deputy, you would have to move fast to get there before the cultists. It was a risky move. You could unintentionally lead them to your cabin, which was off the radar as far as you could tell. You stood there for a moment, your stomach twisting as your brain fought to be reasonable. For some reason, you felt a need to go. You _needed_ to know who was piloting that plane. If the stars above were aligned, maybe you could help the deputy.

The smoke trail made it easy to find the crumpled heap of metal. It had landed nose down, the tail still reaching toward the stars. The image of the plane in the moonlight was eerie, like a haunted shipwreck. You approached the cockpit. The windshield was completely shattered, either from the impact of the crash or from the pilot escaping. You retrieved a flashlight from the storage under your ATV seat and began to jog around the plane, searching.

When you reached the other side of the plane you noticed a disturbance on the ground. Overturned leaves and soil trailed deeper into the woods. Whoever had escaped the plane was either dragging themselves or… _something_. You followed the upturned earth until you came across a large log. You stepped up and looked down the other side. There was no more trail.

You went to the edge of the log and pointed your flashlight inside. The beam of light shined directly into the barrel of a gun. Your heartrate increased as a warm wave of adrenaline washed over your body. “I’m not going to hurt you!” you said hurriedly, “I’m here to help!” There was silence, and then the gun lowered. A young man was staring at you. “I… I need help.” He agreed, weakly. You saw his uniform and realized this must be the deputy.

You knew you had to get him out of there quick. The cultists would be all over the area in minutes. You sprinted to where the ATV sat under the moonlight, your flashlight left behind at the log. The ATV struggled through the thick trees but reached the log faster than you had on foot. After helping the deputy onto the back, you sped back to your cabin. The cultists weren’t stupid. Many of them were good old mid-western boys. If you could track the deputy to the log, they would do the same. Then they would track you to your cabin.

You helped the deputy inside the front door, up the stairs, and to the end of the hall. There was a small table with a framed picture of your late dog, some dried roses, and a small lamp. On the wall behind the table was a ‘secret’ room. It was basically a section of the wall that swung outward, but it wasn’t tall enough to be a door. The room was more like a crawlspace, large enough to lie down or for a couple people to sit hunched over, but no room for anything else. You pushed the table aside so it would be easier to help the deputy inside. One of his legs seemed broken, and he was unable to bend it. It dragged helplessly on the floor as he scooted into the crawlspace. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay. I’ll be back. Stay quiet unless I open this door.” You said in a hushed tone before shutting the door and pushing the table back into place. You sprinted to your shed and grabbed three metal bear traps, then rushed to your ATV. You could hear trucks revving their engines in the distance and the rotor of a helicopter approaching and knew there wasn’t much time before there was a swarm of peggies.

You reached the plane at breakneck speed, but from a different direction. You just needed to make tracks. You drove to the log, on the opposite side from which you found the deputy. You got off the ATV and walked about 10 yards, using the headlights for guidance. You set a beartrap down and threw a couple leaves and some dirt over it. You went back to the ATV and drove off in no particular direction. You needed to create a normal scene of a normal Montana resident, setting traps to get rid of deer competition. You knew you could play out the scenario if questioned. 

You began to hear shouts in the distance. “Check the area! Don’t let him get away! Come out!” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the lack of tactfulness. Did they expect the deputy to respond to them? It made no sense. If anything, all the noise they made would drown out the sound of someone trying to escape. You continued driving away from the crash. They should be able to hear the ATV, at least.

Not wanting to get shot down, you dismounted and pretended to be picking up a trap. A group of three cultists surrounded you, guns raised. You froze and put your hands up. “What are you doing out here, girl?” the one in the middle called out. “Minding my own business until one of you idiots crashed a plane in my back yard.” You replied, pretending to be angered. On the inside you were calm, reading their every move. The cultist on the left piped up: “That wasn’t one of us, that wa-“ “Shut the hell up, Austin!” the middle one called out, cutting him off. “You seen anything in in these woods, girl?” he barked at you, still not lowering his gun. “Just that pile of metal and all the deer you lot scared off – I thought it was bad enough with the bears! Listen, I’m just trying to get by. I thought it would be peaceful up here, but every goddamned day there seems to be some-“ the middle peggy cut you off as he did Austin. “I don’t give two shits what you think or what you want. If you wanna stay pretty, you better learn keep your mouth shut. And you’d best not let me hear you say the lord's name in vain again.” He spoke down to you as if you were a misbehaving child, which means you must have put on a good show. _That’s right,_ you thought, _I’m just a stupid, naïve, ignorant little girl. Don't mind me._ “Hey! Over here! I found somethin’ over here!” Shouted a cultist from toward the plane crash. “Run along, now.” Said the middle cultist, sneering and showing his yellow teeth. You didn’t need to be told twice. You headed over to your ATV as the three cultists hurried away, toward the voice. You were about to start the engine when you heard one call out “What did you find?” and then the response: “It’s a flashlight right in this here piece of wood!”

Your heart dropped. So much for being off the radar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the first chapter! I already have five more written that just need to be finalized. Thanks for reading and maybe I'll see you again... :^)


	2. Flashlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter with the peggies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter isn't very long, but it seemed like the best place to end it... I have the next chapter pretty much ready to go so I should be able to put that out tomorrow. It's definitely going to start picking up after this, though I hope you are enjoying the story even in lieu of Mr. Seed.  
> See you around!

#  Chapter 2: Flashlights 

You knew they were going to find your cabin eventually. They started to scour the area in helicopters like vultures. It was only a matter of time until they paid you a visit. 

The deputy was in bad shape. _Despite how everyone acts, he’s a mortal after all._ You thought to yourself. Single-handedly taking out cult outposts, destroying supply shipments, freeing prisoners – it did seem superhuman. And yet here he was, very humanlike, reclined in a literal hole in the wall. He had a relatively plain but good looking face- the kind you might see cast for a football player on television. A strong jaw, medium brown eyes, and you were sure he had a dazzling smile when he wasn’t in pain. 

You had brought up a basin of warm water along with a few dishrags, towels, and your first aid kit. “It’s not looking good.” You told him, placing a dry towel under his leg. You had asked him to take his pants off so you could get a better look at his injuries. In the normal world, this would have been a strange request for you. But Hope was far from the normal world, so the deputy had taken his pants off without batting an eyelash. You sopped a wet rag over his leg and squeezed lightly, watching dirty water saturate the dry towel below. His kneecap was extremely swollen. You began to place kinesiology tape above and below the kneecap, hoping some of the fluid would drain. “I made a mistake, so they’re going to come here. You should be safe, but they’ll be searching this cabin from top to bottom. We both know it.” You sighed as you finished and looked toward him.

The deputy was using one of the dishrags to wipe dirt and smog from his arms, but he stopped when you turned to him. “It’s going to be okay.” he said, reassuringly. “I hope so.” You responded with a weak smile. “Thanks for helping me. I don’t know what you were thinking, going _toward_ a plane crash, but I’m thankful.” He did have a nice smile. “You’re welcome, deputy. I guess I should be thanking you too-- The Seed family really turned this place into a mess. I just watch. But you… you’re doing something about it.” It sounded a bit cheesy, but it was true. He was still looking at you, but with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Sadness? Doubt? You didn’t want to stare too long. “I’m going to shut you in again. I’ll check on you every so often.” You said, picking up the basin but tucking the first aid kit along the side of the crawlspace. He probably had other injuries to tend to. You shut the hatch and pushed the table back into place. The picture of Ace, your old dog, had fallen. You placed it upright and gave a little sigh as you looked at his panting, smiling face. You wished he were still here. Something told you he would like the deputy.

You went downstairs into the kitchen, but no sooner had you placed the basin in the sink when a loud knocking started at the front door. You strode over and opened it. The cultist from the forest was there with about seven others. “Mind if we come in?” he said as he pushed past you, the rest following. “Of course, no problem.” You said to the empty patio. You shut the door and turned around. The cultists had already started searching your cabin. The one with the yellow teeth was in the kitchen. “What’re you cleanin’ there?” He asked. You knew a basin and dishrags weren’t enough to imply anything. This asshole was just looking for a reaction. “This is called _cleaning_. It’s almost like a shower, but for your home. Do you know what a shower is?” You said, trying to match the same character you created in the woods. He glared at you before he turned and barked orders throughout the cabin. “Don’t leave any room untouched!” he bellowed, “I want this place searched from top to bottom!”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out your red flashlight. “You know what this is?” he asked, dangling it in front of your face. You stared at him and blinked. “Did John _really_ put you in charge? Or does he just send you out because he can’t stand your stupi-“ “I meant is it _yours_ , little girl.” He interrupted you, squinting his eyes. “Not that I know of.” You responded. You weren’t going to give him any reaction, and he didn’t seem to like that. There was a moment of silence as he stared at you, eyes still in slits, waiting to see a break in your hardened expression.

“Why ain’t you a member of Eden’s Gate?” he asked, backing off and spinning the flashlight in hand. “You seem sharp, and you have skill with the ATV and bear traps an’ all.” “Does Eden’s Gate have a bear problem?” you asked, sarcastically. He stopped spinning the flashlight and returned it to his pocket. “You know what, I changed my mind. You wouldn’t last a week there with that attitude.” He turned and walked into the living room where most of the cultists were gathered. Judging by the silence upstairs the rest were outside, probably searching the shed. 

“Nothing.” Said one peggy. “No sign of anyone, sir.” Said another. “Well then, I guess we overstayed our welcome. Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am.” Said Yellow Teeth, sneering at you and your ransacked home. He turned to leave but stopped short of 180 degrees. Something captured his eye. He reached into his pocket and pulled out your flashlight again, walking over to your coffee table. You followed his trajectory with your eyes and saw it too. A smaller version of your flashlight was sitting on the floor by the coffee table. The two were a matching set. The cultist picked it up and held it next to the one taken from the woods. “Not that you know of, huh.” He muttered, turning both over in his hands and inspecting them. You kept a straight face but panic was washing over you. He turned the rest of the way to the door and looked at you over his shoulder. “Take her.”


	3. So Long, Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've all been waiting for...

#  Chapter 3: So Long, Farewell 

### 

They placed a dirty, wet sack from the back of one of their trucks over your head. The smell was a putrid mix of stale blood, sweat, and vomit. You coughed and gagged as they tied your ankles and wrists together and hoisted you over the edge of the truck bed. You landed face forward and rolled to your side. Liquid that had collected on the floor seeped into your clothing. You hoped it was just water, but a strange euphoric feeling told you there was some Bliss in whatever it was. Your mind was hazy as you tried to think of how you were going to get out of this situation. Your first instinct was to say you simply lied about the flashlight being yours because you hate the cult. That wouldn’t gain any favor among them, but it didn’t seem like they were fond of you to begin with. The only other explanation would be that someone else had, or stole, your flashlight. Seeing as you live off the beaten path (on purpose), this was less believable. No, you had to stick with the first explanation. You took the flashlight with you when you went to tend to your bear traps, and it must have fallen as you went. As for why it was in the log… it must have rolled in there, which is why you couldn’t find it. The worst they could do is torture you, and in your current state that didn’t sound like the end of the world. The body is just a vessel for the mind, after all. You can endure worldly pain. Sparkles were dancing their way into your vision. _Yeah.. torture isn’t that bad…_

Through the Bliss you couldn’t tell that the truck had stopped, but once you were lifted out of the back reality started to sink in. You were deposited onto the ground, and your wrists and ankles were cut free. “Get up.” A rough voice said, somewhere above you. It sounded so far away. You were disoriented but did as told, rising to your feet and stumbling a bit. Someone strong-armed you forward, and you started to walk. The texture beneath your shoes changed from gravel to smooth pavement. You couldn’t make out much sound over the strange pounding in your ears from the Bliss. You tripped over what must have been a doorframe, and the pounding lessened slightly. Through the foul smelling mask you began to make out other scents: metal and gasoline, then various foods, then gunpowder, then soap, then bleach, then of gunpowder again – every minute you walked it seemed to change. At one point you could have sworn you smelled blood, but that could have just been the odor from the sack. You hoped so. 

You were finally done walking and shoved onto a chair. The Bliss had faded now, and it was taking a lot of restraint to not throw up. You also felt a growing ache on your shoulder from when you were either thrown in or out of the back of the truck. There was a loud bang as the door to the room closed, and the following sound of a lock snapping into place. You felt more ill as the gears in your brain sped up. You were sure the deputy could recover and make it out of your cabin on his own, but his location was compromised. _Your home’s location was compromised._ You didn’t want to have to move again. You liked Holland Valley. The river with the drug flowers and zombie angels scared the shit out of you, as did the grotesque animals up north. Holland Valley had its fair share of crazy, but at least you didn’t have to live in fear of your surroundings once you got to the forests. Out there it was just you and wildlife, untainted by Bliss and Eden’s Gate. 

You felt ties against your wrists and ankles as you were secured to the chair. The bag was removed from your head and you drank in the fresh oxygen. It wasn’t truly fresh—there was definitely a strong presence of body odor—but anything was better than before. The cultist with the yellow teeth leered at you, still holding your damn flashlight. “I’m glad this is the way things turned out. I’ve wanted to get my hands on you ever since I saw you in them woods.” He said, his eyes locked onto yours. “Now, if you want this to be easy, you’ll just answer my questions honestly. It’s a sin to lie, and sinners…” he walked behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. The feeling made you go rigid. Now that the Bliss had worn off, fear settled in. “Sinners get cleansed.”

He pulled your hair so you were looking up at him. “Why was your flashlight in that log?” He asked, pointblank. “I must have dropped it when I was setting the bea-“ he threw your head down and whacked it with the metal flashlight. Your vision faded to black, but you weren’t passing out. The pain surged throughout your skull as you groaned and heaved. Vomit splattered onto your shoes and the floor. “Why was your flashlight in that log?” he asked again, ignoring your actions. “I swear! I must have dropped it!” you gasped, the acidic bile burning your throat. He kicked the legs of the chair, sending you to the ground, thankfully away from the vitriol. “It’s a sin to lie.” He repeated, looking down at you spat the rest of the sick out of your mouth. “I’ll give you a bit of time to think about that, and then I’ll be back. And I’ll have more than just a flashlight.” With that he exited the room, and the locks slid back into place. 

_That wasn’t too bad._ You thought as you lay on the dirty concrete floor. His threat was sort of scary, but if this was torture… it wasn’t too bad. You could deal with throwing up and a blow to the head. You could take it. You waited in silence for his return. 

You woke up, still on the ground, without any idea of how long you were asleep. Your head was pounding and your joints ached from the position you were in. Seeing as you were tied to the chair, you didn’t really have a choice of where your weight was applied. You attempted to flip over onto your back, but the legs of the chair were heavy and shaped like an open claw and you couldn’t seem to get the physics right. 

You waited for what felt like hours. To make matters worse, you really had to use the restroom. Your swollen bladder pushed uncomfortably against your waistband. At that point you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to hold it if you tried to flip yourself over, so you just waited some more. Time kept passing. Your empty stomach turned uncomfortably. Being hungry, thirsty, _and_ having to use the bathroom was an awful feeling. To pass the time you decided to sing a few tunes. You remembered a song from an Audrey Hepburn movie. The film itself wasn’t very exceptional, but the song was pretty.

> _“Moon river, wider than a mile_  
>  _I'm crossing you in style some day_  
>  _Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker_  
>  _Wherever you're going, I'm going your way”_

You couldn’t remember the next part so you hummed the rest instead, listening to the acoustics in the empty room.

The urge to piss became unbearable. Every second you were hoping someone would come in so you could ask for a bucket, or a bottle, or just to be untied so you could squat in the corner. Someone _had_ to come in. _Any minute now…_

You couldn’t wait any longer. You had made up your mind to relieve yourself, but the signal from your brain kept getting interrupted. It’s not easy to go against what you’ve been specifically _not_ doing for your entire life. Finally, with some concentration, you felt hot liquid streaming down your right thigh onto the floor. As you were on the ground, it began to pool. You started to scoot the chair away, still emptying your bladder, to at least keep your upper half free of urine. You managed to work your way to a corner of the room, your bare arm stinging from dragging on the concrete. The smell of your various waste filled the room. You didn’t feel like singing anymore.

You could feel your blood pressure getting low from the lack of food and water. At this point you had no idea long you had been stuck down there. It _felt_ like days had passed, but realistically it was probably just one. You had to pee again, but not enough to release. You closed your eyes and tried to sleep through the pain and nausea.

You awoke in silence, yet again. Your pants and lower part of your shirt were still damp from your bathroom episode. You felt more than disgusting- you felt unhuman. Your arm was numb from the shoulder down, and your neck was stiff and aching. You thought of the deputy, hopefully safe in your cabin. You were still happy to have helped him, even if it meant you had to suffer. Tears formed in your eyes as your brain continued to think about your life and how you ended up alone in a filthy cell.

Your family was probably still alive somewhere in Hope County. The cabin you lived in was built by your grandfather as a gift for your grandmother when they were young and in love. After they passed away it was inherited by your parents, though they never used it aside from the occasional vacation. Your parents and various relatives sold most of your grandparents’ possessions. All that remained in the cabin was basic furniture, some dishes, and a couple of bookshelves. Everything else was brought in by you after you moved in. The thought of it all made you bitter. None of your grandparents’ children took care of them when they got old. They were sent off to a nursing home, like kids to an orphanage. Their kids didn’t even give them a funeral- they just paid the crematorium and disposed of the ashes.

That’s not to say your parents weren’t loving people; They loved you and your brother, Isaac, with all their hearts. You had a decent life until the Project started up. It started slow but ended with your parents drugged up on Bliss while you and Isaac were left to take care of yourselves. Isaac grew colder, shaved his head, and started listening to the recruiters in town. He kept trying to tell you about some Jacob Seed guy and how his militia was the true backbone of Hope. You wouldn’t listen- much to his frustration- and would tell him he sounded just like your parents talking about Faith Seed. This offended him deeply and the two of you grew more distant until the day you moved out. You tried to get your family to come with you to the cabin. You truly thought getting away from the town and the psychotic peggies would clear their head. Maybe your family knew it would too, which is why they adamantly refused. They were comforted by the craziness. They had a sense of belonging. In the end, you loaded up an old abandoned pick-up with some clothes and headed off with your dog, Ace. 

You had come to terms with leaving your family months before it happened, so it wasn’t too hard on you. It was more of a relief. Plus, Ace loved being up in the woods. He was a Rough Collie, like the Lassie dog. You thought his long thick hair and slender face made him look like some sort of prince. He was very intelligent and talking to him was just like talking to a person. He always knew what you meant. If it was time to go hunting, if it was time to go to town, if it was time to make a fire – he knew. He could read your feelings. When you would fall into various holes of misery, he was there to throw down a ladder. You often worried about your family and blamed yourself for their current state, but he was there to remind you that sanity still existed. You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved. 

Your parents would call from time to time. Mostly your mother, crying over the phone and begging you to please join them so you could be saved. It eventually became too much for you. Your mother used to be strong-willed and sharp, and now she was a druggie on Bliss. One evening, your mother was very worked up about how she and your father were to start some pilgrimage. She sounded so genuine when she asked you to come with them so you could be enlightened. She really believed everything she was saying – that you, her, Isaac, and your father were all going to live happily ever after by the Henbane. According to her there was already a paradise waiting for all of you. You listened to her monologue with tears in your eyes, and once she stopped to hear your response you asked her not to call you anymore. And that was that.

Over time your life improved. You and Ace became better hunters, dancers, and puzzle solvers together. You got to know shopkeepers in the town a few miles away, most of which weren’t avid members of Eden’s Gate (outwardly, at least), and everyone was friendly enough. You refused to get close to any of them, though. You politely turned down lunches and dinners but appreciated them all the same. You had a deal with the local butcher that if you brought him game to chop up he could keep everything if he gave you a few pounds of meat. This was more of a win for the butcher, but you and Ace weren’t into hoarding. You would hunt and eat as you needed, with no more than a week of food in your storage at a time. People were hoarding left and right in the towns, so you knew if shit really hit the fans you’d manage on what they would abandon. Perhaps that was a foolish line of thought, but you had a mental block against amassing too much of anything. 

Weeks passed, and you hadn’t heard from anyone in your family. You were okay with this. It wasn’t until August 5th that everything took a wrong turn. You remember the date because it was the day after Ace turned seven. The two of you had spent his birthday playing outside and you even took him to the creek nearby. He _loved_ going in the water, but you rarely let him because of how muddy he would get afterward. It always brought a smile to your face when he swam, though. His fluffy coat melted when he got wet, like cotton candy, leaving behind a dog half the size. Once the two of you exhausted yourselves you returned to the cabin, soaked but happy, and you surprised him with a special little cake in the shape of an Ace. You always made him a cake, much to your family’s exasperation, but Ace appreciated it. You sang him Happy Birthday and placed it on the ground where it disappeared shortly after. You started stacking wood in the fireplace as he licked the plate, then the two of you listened to music and relaxed in the hearth. You hoped he had a great birthday. You didn’t even make him take a bath. That could wait until tomorrow.

The next evening, on that terrible August 5th, you were making some stew from venison and various leftover vegetables when you heard a car in the dirt road outside. You walked over to the window and Ace bounded onto the couch to look outside as well. Your mother, father, and Isaac were getting out of the family car. You opened your front door and put on a weak smile. “Hey guys, come on in!” you said, and you were genuinely happy. The only apprehension you had was regarding the strange look on Isaac’s face and your parents’ obviously deteriorating health. They were noticeably thinner, and their reaction time was poor. They stumbled up the stairs and into your home. “Wow… the place looks very nice.” Your father said, looking around sheepishly. “…very nice.” Your mom slowly echoed, barely seeming to register her surroundings. Isaac was sober and glaring at you. “We came to take you home with us.” He said. “Nice to see you too, bro.” you replied, chuckling at how stern he was. “I’m serious. You can’t stay up here all alone like this. It’s obviously not good for you.” You raised your eyebrows at him. You had a home, food on the stove, and you weren’t on drugs. How was this not good for you? “I beg to differ.” You said, choosing your words wisely. “Ace and I are fine. Are you guys staying for dinner? I have enough.” You offered, though you wouldn’t mind if they left. You just had a bad feeling.

“Dinner sounds lovel-“ “No, we don’t.” Your brother cut off your mom without a glance. They weren’t helping his case. “Go wait in the car.” Your parents hobbled out the door and down the stairs without another word. “I’m not asking.” Isaac said, his face still hard and angry. “All that time with Jacob has really turned you into a brick wall.” You said to him, shaking your head. “I’m not leaving. I’m glad you all have found your calling, but I’m not interested in being a puppet.” Isaac didn’t like that point of view. “We’re not puppets. I don’t know about Mom and Dad and Faith, but Jacob is the real deal. You’re strong enough to be part of his army. It’s actually really awesome and-“ “Woah, Isaac. One: I _really_ don’t need a recruiter. Two: I don’t care how appealing you find him, but I’m not joining Jacob’s hillbilly army. I’m. Not. Interested. Please leave if that’s the reason you came.” Isaac cocked his head in surprise, probably not used to hearing Jacob being insulted. “You… you’re a bitch.” he said, head still tilted. “What is _wrong_ with you, Isaac?” you asked, “Why are you acting like this? How did they get into your head like this?” you didn’t even expect an answer, you just wanted to vent. “You’re going to come back with me to Jacob’s, and you’re going to learn.” He said, raising his voice. Ace growled in the background. “No, no, I’m actually not.” You replied, simply. 

This is when it took a turn for the worst. Isaac moved forward, grabbing your arm and pulling it toward the front door. A blur moved past you and barreled into Isaac. Ace had lunged at him, fangs bared, and Isaac was just as surprised as you. You were released as he fell to the ground, Ace snapping at his face. “ACE!” you yelled, but no sooner had his name left your mouth than a loud bang echoed through the cabin. A yelp pierced your ears as shock settled in. Isaac pushed Ace off him, revealing a trail of blood. Isaac was holding a small handgun, looking at you and Ace in both horror and triumph. You screamed and fell to Ace’s body, pulling him onto your lap. You looked up at Isaac and began to sob. So much breath was escaping your body that you couldn’t even scream. Tears fell down your face as you were able to inhale and find your voice. _“What did you do?! What did you do?! He didn’t even bite you! What did you do?!”_ was all you could manage to scream, over and over. Isaac looked at you in disgust for a long moment as you shrieked. “I… take back what I said. Jacob’s army wouldn’t accept this. I guess there really is no helping you.” As he exited you heard him mutter “Mom and Dad were right.” 

The truck sped away, kicking up gravel. You were sobbing, holding the only friend you had left. Ace’s warm blood was leaking onto your lap, onto your hands, and you knew there was no saving him. You bent your head down and cried into his thick mane of hair. “Oh Ace,” you sobbed, “Oh Ace… you’re such a good boy.” You knew your crying was scaring him, so you tried to put on a smile. You thought of his birthday and how less than twenty-four hours ago the two of you were having one of the best times in a long time. “I love you so much… I love you so, so, so much…” You cooed as he lifted his head to yours. “I’m never going to forget you.” you told him, trying to smile through the sobs. He licked your salty cheeks and looked at you with his big, brown eyes. You knew he understood everything that was happening. Through your teary eyes you saw his expression glaze over, and you were left all alone.

The sound of the door unlocking brought you back to the grimy cell. Tears and mucus were running down the side of your face. You didn’t even realize you were crying. You shut your eyes and squeezed the last few tears out. As footsteps drew nearer, a new scent materialized through the filth- this time of expensive cologne. It was a dark, musty scent that was very masculine but not overbearing. You wanted to keep breathing it in, as if it were the closest thing to comfort you could find. “You have made quite the mess.” A voice said, sounding like a mother walking into her child’s bedroom. “This won’t do. Can someone put the chair on its feet? Man, it smells in here.” You felt yourself rise as someone lifted your chair and set it upright. You groaned as your shoulder fell painfully back into its normal position. Pins and needles started to race down your arm and fingertips. The chair spun around, and you could see it was some random peggy that picked you up. He pulled you back to the middle of the room, his feet splashing in your mess. “That’s better.” It was the other voice again. Why did it sound so familiar? The peggy moved away to reveal the man in charge. He was wearing a long and expensive-looking jacket with polished boots and well fitted jeans. “Can someone… I don’t know, hose her down or something?” he asked one of the henchmen. Before you even registered his face, everything clicked. You didn’t have a television, but you _did_ have a radio. Now you knew why his voice was so damn familiar. 

“So, I hear you were found at the scene of the crime” he said, straightening up and folding his arms. “Crime?” you repeated dazedly, staring at him. John Seed was a lot more handsome in person than what you remembered on the random television screens in town. You somehow felt self-conscious. The oversized clothes you threw on at home made you feel like some vagrant who had been picked up from a back alley, and the mess you created fit the description. “You know, that plane that crashed by your… house? It was being flown by the _worst_ sinner in Hope County.” He looked at you as if this information should frighten you. Silence hung in the air. “Um…” you said, awkwardly, “how do you know they’re the worst?” John looked at you, a sadness in his eyes. “My child, I know sin. I know it so, so well.” The sorrow in his eyes seemed genuine. It was strange, seeing as he was one of the leaders of this unpleasant cult. They were the worst sinners in Hope, but you were sure that wasn’t what _he_ thought. “You know,” he continued, starting to pace the room. “I had one of my best trackers go out to that crash. He told me some interesting things, but I’m sure you already know what I’m talking about. Helping the deputy… that’s a pretty grave mistake.” The skin on the back of your neck crawled as you felt him draw near, behind you. “Tell me where he is.” John spoke above the back of your head. Your pulse quickened. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You said, timidly. There was a loud whack on your right ear as Johns cupped hand forcefully hit you. Your head whipped to the left. “Tell me where he is.” John said in the exact same tone, over the ringing in your ear. “I don’t know!” you said with more conviction. “Why would I care to help him? I don’t know where he is!” you said, determined to sound strong. John appeared in front of you, head down, one hand massaging his forehead. “Why are you making me hurt you?” He asked, with his head still down. You didn’t respond. His head snapped up and his eyes met yours as he smiled. “You force my hand.” _Dear God, he is insane._ You thought, as he clapped his hands and walked to the door. “Prepare her for me.” He said to the peggy who picked up your chair, and he exited the room. 

You were in hell. You knew it. This. Was. Hell. There was no way this could happen to someone on God’s green Earth. Before John had put the knife to your skin, he had looked at you with his amazing blue eyes. “I think it’s time for us to get to know each other a bit better. The deputy can wait.” The blade of the knife was sharp, but not sharp enough. You could feel it tearing through the fibers of your skin like wet linen. John was cutting your right thigh, above the knee and moving upward. You were shaking, your clothes wet from being literally hosed down, and your ankles were tied to the legs of the chair preventing you from kicking out. You still tried, though your right leg felt extremely weak. You weren’t gagged. Your screams echoed around the room, but John paid them no mind. “Pride is a deadly sin. It’s also incredibly hard to cure. You see, people consumed by pride have no self-awareness. They carry on as if everyone else is the problem. They’re _blind_.” He said, as he continued to cut your flesh with a steady hand. “This is your sin. You have no reason to hide, to lie, to go against the will of the Father… it’s your _pride_ controlling you. I usually give a tattoo, you know, but something about you told me I needed to do more. Do you feel the sin pouring out of you? I can. Pride is…” Your cheeks were tight from dried tracks of tears. You were still crying, but the tears had stopped flowing. You continued your battle against your restraints, praying somehow you could be freed. _Please, if there is a God,_ you begged in your head, _please, let me go. Let me go. I swear I’ll be good from now on. Please._ But there was no god in this place. John was going to carve you up, and you had to endure it. You began to feel light-headed. You couldn’t understand what he was saying anymore. His voice was turning into a hum. You tried to kick your leg one last time and-

There was a snap. You felt your right ankle come free and your leg extended. It all happened so fast. John’s face turned into surprise at your sudden movement, and then there was red on his face. There was red everywhere. And then there was black.

You were running in the forest by your cabin, laughing. You looked to your side and saw the deputy running with you, a big grin on his face. You both ran into a clearing in the woods and he grabbed both your hands in his, his eyes sparkling. “We’re free! You did it!” he was shouting and laughing. You were so happy you started to jump up and down, joy flooding your eyes. You felt something else and looked to your side. Ace was on his hind legs, his front legs tapping on your hip as he joined in the celebration. _“We’re free! We’re free!”_ you and the deputy yelled together. Everything was going to be okay, just like he told you back in the cabin. 

An engine sounded above, and you looked up. A plane was falling from the sky. You looked back at the deputy, but he was on the ground. The right half of his body was mangled and shredded, as if run over by a lawn mower. Ace was sprawled a few steps away. You screamed and fell onto the ground. A shadow consumed you, and you knew the plane was about to crash on top of your small body. You waited for death to take you, for the pain and fear to end… but there was only silence and darkness. Nothingness. You still felt scared. Your brain realized that was a dream, but what if it were something more? What if it were a vision? What if they had found the deputy, and that was how he looked now? Determination pushed through the fear. You had to stay alive. For the deputy.

You felt a hand on your face and you opened your eyes. Two blue eyes looked back at you with a pair of thick eyebrows. John was wiping tears off your face. “You’re awake.” He said, and he seemed to be relieved. You didn’t say anything and swatted his hand away from your face. You felt woozy and knew you must be on some heavy medication. You looked down your body and saw that your right leg was heavily bandaged. You were lying on an old hospital bed, hooked up to some machines. There was an IV drip stand next to you with one bag containing blood and another containing a clear solution. You realized there was an oxygen hose around your face gently pushing air into your nostrils. _What the hell did he do?_ Your eyes traveled back to John. You still didn’t say a word. You just let your eyes bore into his, wishing with every cell in your body that he would stop breathing and keel over. He spoke. “When you broke the restraint, an artery in your leg was cut. We-” “You cut my artery.” You said, bluntly. He looked at you blankly. You turned and stared straight ahead. “Is pride really _my_ sin?” you wondered out loud. You didn’t know if the meaning of that sentence would even get through his thick skull. His ego was so big that he couldn’t even own up to his own mistake. More tears formed in your eyes and you silently swiped them away. “I… I…” John was struggling to say something. It was a weird change of character from the crazed man you remembered, cutting your leg. “Stop.” You said, and you were a little shocked that you dared give him an order. Maybe it was the medication. He listened and stood up as you continued to stare straight ahead. After he exited the room you heard a loud sound, as if he either threw an object or a punch at the wall. It sounded an awful lot like wrath to you.


	4. Sanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who is reading this- it means a lot to me! I hope you like it, feel free to say hi... :^)

### 

You were still weak when a cultist brought you something resembling a meal. This cultist, an elderly and almost toothless woman named Linda, was kinder than the others you had been exposed to. She was still brainwashed and she didn’t trust you one bit, but at least she wasn’t violent. The worst she did was hurt your feelings, either by saying you deserved the pain you were in or commenting on your 'sinful nature'. She never named any sins- it just seemed as though anyone who wasn't praising Joseph was deemed a sinner by default.

The food didn’t look appetizing. There was stale bread, non-descript meat jerky, and a boiled egg with a greenish yolk. After the first bite of bread took you a good two minutes to chew, you gave up on the rest of the meal. You supposed it was nice that they brought you anything at all. When Linda saw you weren’t eating, she grabbed the plate and hobbled off as if she had found hidden treasure. You sighed and looked at your bandaged leg. You wondered if you were allowed out of the room…? 

You sat in silence a bit longer, waiting to see if Linda would reappear. It didn’t seem likely. She was probably too busy gumming the food to death in another room. You scooted to the edge of the bed and swung your legs over the side. You inched off the bed until your feet touched the ground. Your left leg was uninjured but still weak, as was your whole body. 

You put more weight on your good leg, trusting it to hold you. It seemed to be cooperating. You leaned forward and put your right leg forward to take a step. You felt your foot make contact with the ground and your knee bend, but it wouldn’t straighten. Your stomach did a somersault as your knee kept bending as if they replaced your muscles with rubber. You fell to the ground, pain shooting up your side. “Augh” you grunted, rolling to your left. The ground felt nice and cool even though it was dirty. 

You tried to take deep breaths, waiting for the throbbing pain to decrease. It didn’t. You clenched your fists and shut your eyes tight, willing yourself to either endure the pain or pass out again. 

Then the smell hit you. It was John’s cologne. You couldn't help but enjoy that smell- it was divine. If only the man wearing it were the same. You opened your eyes to two stylish black boots in front of your face. You groaned, half from pain and half from having to face him again. His arms tucked underneath you and lifted you back onto the bed. 

“Where is Linda?” he sounded irritated. “Am I supposed to be watching her?” You asked, incredulously. “Never mind... has she bathed you? You smell terrible.” “No.” “Well, that won’t do.” He said, clicking his tongue and lifting you once more. Your leg was in pain, but you said nothing. “I’m flattered you feel like you have to do this, but you don’t. Linda should be back soon.” He stopped walking and looked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked, something fierce in his beautiful eyes. It was a shame that such an attractive man could have such an unattractive personality. “Why are you being nice to me now? Is it guilt because you injured me, or-“ he dropped you and raised his hands up as you cried out in pain. “Guilt? I think you’re getting the wrong idea here.” He said looking down at you. “Maybe pity, but not guilt. You can wait for Linda.” He walked off without a second glance. “Jesus Christ!” you exclaimed, rolling onto your left side yet again. You wanted to cry again, but you held it in. You hated feeling so helpless. Before the tears could win their way out, you were lifted up again. “Put me down.” You moaned as they lifted you to their chest. They weren't going to put you down. “I wish I bled out on that table.” You said quietly, into the naked torso. Naked torso? This wasn’t John. You panicked and looked up at a different face. The Father.

Joseph carried you gently. He was humming some tune, his chest vibrating against your arm. He carried you out of the makeshift hospital and into a building not far away. Cultists stared, mouths hanging open, wondering what the Father was doing. You were sure they thought he was about to perform some miracle on you. They were totally infatuated with him. It was sad to think about.

He carried you into an old Victorian style house, down a hall, and into a large and beautiful bathroom. The floor was some type of white stone, and across the bathroom stood a large clawed tub. He set you down on a small chaise and began to take off your hospital gown, still humming. You wanted to stop him but you couldn’t. He was caring for you as no one else had. He didn’t comment on how filthy you were or question you about the deputy. His only concern was tending to you. 

You weren’t wearing anything under the gown, save for a pair of underwear. He slipped his fingers under the waistband and gently tugged them down. You were now completely exposed and yet his eyes never lingered. He lifted your naked body and placed you softly into the tub. You felt the hardness of porcelain pushing against your frame and realized how pathetic you must look, especially after the lack of adequate food.

Joseph started the water and made sure it was at a proper temperature before turning on the overhead showerhead. Warm water kissed your skin like rays from heaven. You couldn’t believe that something you once took for granted could be such a luxury. You watched the dingy water trail from you and disappear down the drain. 

You looked up at movement across the bathroom and saw that Joseph was taking off his belt. Your heart started to race. “Um…” you said, not sure what was happening. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, child.” He said, reading your mind. He finished shrugging off his jeans but left his underwear on. You blushed- not because you were particularly attracted to him, but because there was something about seeing the Father in his underwear that made you feel like a young girl with a secret. 

He stepped into the large tub and took shampoo off the rack along the wall. He sat and pulled you in front of him, his hands on your shoulders to guide you until your back was facing him. He lathered your hair with shampoo and massaged your temples as you closed your eyes and began to relax. Is this how he brainwashed people? You’d believe it. The man had magic fingers. He detached the shower head from above and rinsed your hair. 

Next, he lathered a washcloth with soap and started to caress your neck with it. You pulled your hair to side to allow it. If you didn’t know better, you would say there was Bliss in the water. He was bringing the washcloth lower and lower down your back, and your skin was tingling with anticipation when he stopped. “I’ll let you finish.” He said, and the words were so bittersweet. You didn’t want him to stop. You turned and looked at him. “Thank you…” you said as he handed you the washcloth. “I’ll be back to help you get out.” He smiled at you and stepped out, gathered his belongings, and went outside to the neighboring room. 

You sat in the tub wondering what just happened. How could the most insane member of the Seed family feel so… sane? He was so kind, so gentle. There’s no way this could be the man the deputy wanted to kill so desperately. You shook your head as you realized what you were thinking. _Holy shit. He's getting into your mind._

You slowly unwrapped the bandage on your thigh and gasped at the mess on your leg. The hastily repaired injury was a mess of thread and flesh. John had been slicing large letters down your inner thigh, each around two inches tall. He was writing “PRIDE,” and had started with an ‘E’ by your knee and was working his way up. It looks like you kicked right when he finished ‘R’. The result was the word “RIDE” going down your thigh, with the top of the ‘R’ being an arterial laceration. 

You stifled back a sob. It was hideous. How could he do this to you? The wound burned as you rinsed it out. Some of the flesh on the edges of the lettering had turned pruny and white, with little flaps waving sadly in the stream of water. 

You finished soaping yourself and tried to forget about your leg. You just wanted to enjoy the warm water a bit longer. Once it started turning cold you turned it off, and your body heat began to fade. As you sat in the tub waiting for Joseph you heard some commotion outside of the room. There was a man yelling, and upon hearing more you determined it was John. “-care of her! I’m more than capable!” He was shouting. Then he was quiet as a muffled voice was saying something back. It must have been Joseph. He didn’t raise his voice. John lowered his tone, but it was still audible: “I was going to come back for her. Do you really think I would leave her lying there? …No, I didn’t… No, I didn’t ask. Linda was supposed to do that! …Fine, it doesn’t matter to me. But I’ll be around.” Then there was silence. The door swung open and Joseph walked into the bathroom holding a white towel. Before the door shut you caught a glimpse of John, and your eyes met. His mouth opened, and you saw his eyes flicker over your shivering body. Then the door was closed, and it was just you and Joseph. 

You folded your arms across your chest as he approached. Now that you were no longer dirty your mind was able to comprehend other things, like embarrassment. “No need to be ashamed. The body is just a shell, given to us by the creator. The only thing we need to hide is our sins.” You looked at him, confused. “Why would we _hide_ our sins? Isn’t your whole thing about bringing sin out and cleansing it?” “Yes, but until then… some things are best left a secret.” He said, a small smile on his face. You were pretty sure this was the opposite of what he preached. Keeping sin a secret? That didn’t sound very devout. Isn’t confession a central pillar of religion? You weren’t going to argue, but the whole notion rubbed you the wrong way and you weren’t even his follower.

Joseph took your left hand in his right and stretched out your arm, drying it gently with the towel. “You’ll be in my care for now,” he said as he dried your shoulder and moved on to your other arm. “I hope that’s alright. It didn’t seem as if you were receiving the proper care with my brother.” He dried your chest, and his large hand gently clasped one breast, then the other. “Or the right attention.” He finished, moving the towel down your torso. He stopped as his gaze shifted to your leg. His jaw clenched as he looked at the ripped flesh. Joseph was strange – he seemed capable of empathy, and yet he was the head of a barbaric cult. He didn’t seem inherently violent and yet weapons, torture, and murder were the holy trinity of Eden’s Gate. You wanted to know more about him, and about his brother. 

He carefully dried your legs with the soft towel, careful to dab around the wounds as to not get any fibers inside of you. He then pulled you into him, lifting you out of the tub and into the room he and John were fighting in. There were fresh clothes and bandages on a bed, and on the far wall a pair of crutches were leaning by a second door. He sat you at the edge of the bed and brought the clothes over, still bearing tags. There was a pair of black underwear and a matching unpadded bra on top of the colorful pile. He brought the undergarments to you and graciously accepted, pulling the bra over your head. You stood on your left leg and slipped the underwear under your right, then used Joseph for support as you shifted your weight to put your other leg through. You pulled them up, careful not to let them drag over your injured leg and sat on the bed. Joseph brought bandages and other medical supplies to tend to you. 

You seized up as he disinfected your 'sin', and the burning sensation brought you back to that room with John, bound to a chair. You could feel your heartbeat through the wound and you clenched your fists around the bedsheets on either side of you. “John didn’t mean to hurt you so badly.” Joseph said, now rubbing some cream over the wound. You let out a pained laugh. “Cutting words into someone is his way of not hurting them badly?” Joseph didn’t entertain your wit. “He has his own… _method_ of guiding people down the path.” Joseph mused, unwrapping a bandage. “Usually there aren’t any problems. When dealing with more delicate people, I suppose there can be complications.” _Woah, woah, woah. Delicate?_ “I’m pretty sure human anatomy is the same for everyone.” You said, slowly. “No one can control how easily their arteries are cut.” Joseph said nothing and started to wrap your leg. 

Once he finished he straightened up. “You need rest.” He said, placing the excess bandages back on the table. Your body seemed to be waiting for those words. All of the fatigue and pain from before returned and spread throughout your limbs. Joseph helped you get under the covers and sat at the edge of your bed, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Sleep well, my child.” He said lightly, and you closed your eyes and nodded into his embrace. You were ready to be taken away by sleep, and you could feel it washing over you like a warm breath. You felt Joseph’s weight leave the bed and heard a door open. Without meaning to, your voice called out his name. His footsteps stopped. “Thank you…” is all you managed to get out before sleep took you away. You didn’t hear if he said anything back.


	5. Not-So-Precious Cargo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long break. Life and whatnot. I'll be more consistent from now on- I promise! Also, thank you for the kind comments! Reading them is what inspired me to finalize this chapter and get it to you lovely readers. The story is finally centered more on John and I know this is what we've all been waiting for, so... enjoy hehe

#  Chapter 5 

### 

It wasn’t long before you realized John was watching you. You were no longer his responsibility and yet he was present most days. He seemed to be busy- handling paperwork, making calls, speaking with other cult members- but you were sure it wasn't entirely necessary that he was there so often. Besides glances and not-so-subtle stares, he never interacted with you. You had a theory that this was because of Joseph’s company. Something about him made John docile. Whatever it was, it made you feel safe.

You were allowed out of your room (under peggy surveillance) without Joseph, but after John's first appearance you stopped. Only if Joseph asked for you did you leave your room, and you stayed as close to his side as possible. He didn't seem to mind this and even held your hand at times. He was surprisingly pleasant to talk to when he wasn't in god-fearing mode. The two of you were able to have decent conversations and sometimes you almost felt a shadow of happiness. Other times, when the subject of his mission or the Project came up, you were reminded of how desperately you wanted to leave. Despite how the conversations went, Joseph always made a request for you to attend one of his services. You were able to graciously decline each time but eventually you submitted, much to his pleasure. 

On the morning of the service, a giftbag was delivered to your room. Inside was a beautiful lilac colored dress, and a small note.

_In celebration of your first service.  
\- Joseph _

It ended up being your last.

###### 

You sat in the back of the church, lost in thought, as Joseph droned on and peggies joined with chants and song. After a less than thrilling chorus of "Be Thou My Vision" you felt someone sit next to you, their thigh touching yours. The familiar smell of cologne made it unnecessary to turn your head.

“It’s nice to see you alone. You’ve been clinging to Joseph so much.” John whispered in your direction, still looking ahead. The Father was preaching, but when his eyes scanned to you and John he held your gaze a bit longer. You hoped he could tell you wanted to be saved - not from sin, but from his brother.

“It’s not long before we’re back together. I never leave my work unfinished.” he purred, his hand trailing to your still bandaged thigh. “Pride is still seeping out of you, like an _infection_.” his hand squeezed on the last word, causing you to stifle a pained gasp. Joseph was staring at you now, and you prayed he would be finishing service soon.  
“I guess I’ll be your first.” you replied, willing it to be true. “I’ll be dead before I let you hurt me again.” He chuckled and released his grip. He laughed, but you were serious. You had contemplated your death more than once in the past few weeks. Escape or die, those were your only options. The two weren’t mutually exclusive, either.  
John seemed to be reading your mind. “Is that a threat? That can’t be ignored. Does Joseph know one of his little lambs is staring down a cliff?” he mused. Something in his voice made you apprehensive.

“So glad you could make it this morning, John.” a gentle voice said from your left. You were so thankful to see the Father you could have kissed him. “I always come when I can.” responded John, smiling. There was a brief silence which you immediately took advantage of. You put on a weak smile and began to stand. “Well, I guess it’s time to-“ John’s hand flew to your shoulder and held you in your seat. “There’s actually something I wanted to discuss with you, Joseph.” Joseph looked at you, then back at John. “Privately.” Joseph nodded. “Of course. Come to the altar.” The two men moved to the front of the sanctuary.

You knew you were to stay put, but you wanted to run away so badly. Your stomach was uncomfortable, as if a knot were being tied tighter and tighter above your bellybutton. You had a bad feeling about John’s reason to speak with Joseph. The door was so close, and they were so deep in conversation… But your leg was in no shape to allow running. You sat helplessly, like a child waiting for their parent.

They spoke for several minutes. Joseph listened intently as John expressed his mysterious case. Joseph looked toward you a few times with an expression you couldn’t read. Your fear of being the topic was all but confirmed.

Finally, their conversation ended. John exited the church as Joseph approached you. “Walk with me.” he said, and he helped you up.

The two of you walked out of the church and into the sunlight. Joseph’s followers were waiting outside to grasp his hand and ask for blessings. He gave each of them his undivided attention, his kindness never seeming to run out. Your heart sank as your brain fought through the charm he placed on you. The charm he placed on everyone. You were no more special to him than the cultists gathered for service. You were just another pawn, a means to his end, and you couldn’t let yourself become attached.  
After the last of his followers had been satisfied he returned to you, his arms open. Playing the part.

“Are you happy here?” he asked, looking ahead as the two of you strolled down a path away from town. “No.” you replied bluntly. “I miss my home, I’m always in pain thanks to your brother, and I just… don’t belong here.” There were many other reasons, but you decided to leave it there. He stopped and looked at you, his eyes searching yours as they always did when he asked important questions. “Have you contemplated taking your life while you’ve been in my care?” You were taken aback by his pointed question. The answer was a resounding _“Yes,”_ followed by _“Of course,”_ and _“Who wouldn’t?”_ but instead you just said _“No.”_ again. His eyes flickered between yours, his face very close, and you knew he could see the truth.

“You would destroy one of God’s greatest gifts?” He was acting sad- yes, _acting_ \- and it made you upset. How could he genuinely care? He’s the reason your life went south in the first place, long before you were even captured. You lost your friends, your family, the house you grew up in- all because of him and the voice in his head. You remained silent, wishing he would stop prying.

“I didn’t want to believe John when he told me, but it seems he’s right. You’re losing hope. You’re losing your spirit. He told me that you’re losing things to say _‘Yes’_ to.” You realized where this was going. “No…” you whimpered, “I don’t want to go back there. I’m doing much better here, with you.” Joseph stopped walking and looked at your panicked state. “Sometimes the hardest choices are the ones we need to make.” He said, holding your hands in his. Tears were welling in your eyes. “I don’t want to go back. I swear I’ll be good. He hurt me before; he’ll hurt me again. Please, Father, I’m scared…” For a moment you thought he was going to give in, to actually empathize and let you stay with him, but instead he put his forehead to yours and said “It’s going to be okay.”

The tears began to fall. The deputy had said those exact words right before this all happened. They gave you no comfort. “It’s not.” You whispered, and he moved his hands to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. In that moment, you realized a few things.  
One: Joseph is a narcissist. How you could harbor any feelings for him is nothing but a personal flaw.  
Two: John is a manipulative bastard.  
Three: You missed the deputy. You understood why he wanted this family dead, and you were going to help him even if it truly was the last thing you did.

You didn’t realize the transfer was going to be immediate. John was already waiting at Joseph’s residence, leaning against a black SUV. Your eyes were red and puffy, and you were still clasping one of Joseph’s hands for no good reason. John walked to the passenger door behind the driver’s seat and held it open for you. “My things are inside.” You said, unenthusiastically. “That doesn’t matter, we can buy you new ones.” He replied, a phony smile on his face. It was nauseating how these two could put on a show.

You wanted to protest. Part of you was upset about having to leave your items behind. You weren’t sure what hell awaited you after you got in that SUV. If you had your clothes and blankets you’d at least be able to smell Joseph’s home, his soap… you could close your eyes and pretend you were still with him. You inwardly kicked yourself at how you were still longing for a man you just established was incapable of affection. And still…

Joseph gave your hand a small squeeze and then let go. You pursed your lips and refused to blink as your eyes became wet again. He walked to his brother and embraced him, thanking him for guiding you ‘down the path’. You felt betrayed. He was _thanking_ John for taking you. Were you that much of a burden?

Joseph turned to you and spread his arms, inviting you in. You stood your ground. Even if he didn’t care, he had to know you were unhappy. His arms fell as he looked at your glassy eyes. “My child, it is just a temporary parting.” You said nothing. He seemed to be slightly annoyed by your demeanor. You willed your voice to be steady as you spoke. “Whatever happens to me after I get into that SUV- just know that it’s because of the decision you made today. _Your_ decision, not mine.” You couldn’t tell the effect your words had on him, but he held your gaze in silence. Part of you _did_ want to embrace him, to cry on his shoulder, but that would only make you look weaker than you already did. You knew you had to stop being so emotional. You turned away and passed John, taking your seat in the vehicle.

John seated himself to your right, with just the middle seat separating you. As the car headed down the driveway you turned and saw Joseph walking back into his home, abandoning you with the man who maimed you and left you on a concrete floor.

You felt broken. Miserable. Hollow. John was saying something, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how Joseph broke your heart in a strange way. He seemed so kind. So nice. You felt safe with him. You thought he understood, but all it took for him to see you off was one conversation with his brother. Perhaps he was waiting for an excuse to get rid of you, and John provided that for him. At the same time, why did he argue with John outside of the bathroom that night he bathed you? Why did he want you then, but not now? It was hard to process. You felt yourself falling down a hole, and Ace wasn’t there to help you out of it.

You realized John was waiting for a response from you. You turned to him and your dead, tired gaze no longer held secrets. “I _said_ , it truly will just be you and me now. If we’re going to make this work, you’re going to have to stop lying.” Oh god, he just won’t stop. He’s exhausting. “What do you want to know? Where the deputy is? I honestly don’t know. He was in my cabin, but then you took me away. I don’t know where he is now.” The car swerved as the cultist behind the wheel almost veered off the road. John’s eyes were wide with shock. “You… you helped the deputy?” He asked, staring at you intently. “I did.”

There was a heavy silence. You could see that John was simultaneously giddy and enraged at this new information. It was entirely useless at this point and he knew it. “Well? Aren’t you going to punish me?” you asked, aggressively. “Go ahead and do it. What does it matter anymore? Just do it, you sadist. Don’t you want me to ‘force your hand’? Well, here I am, forcing it.” You weren’t sure why you were antagonizing him, but you couldn’t stop. “I helped the deputy because you, your sick brothers, and that drug dealing bitch deserve to pay for hurting so many people. I can’t wait for him to find you all, one by one, and send you to hell where you belo-“ he slapped you, and you stopped. He was breathing heavily and staring at you with a fury you hadn’t expected but should have. He returned his gaze to the front of the car, his fists clenched.

You arrived at his ranch. He didn’t say anything when he opened your door, but he slammed it behind you. There were armed cultists all along the perimeter of the building. After entering the ranch you followed John down to the basement, where there was a small room connected to a bathroom. In a few words you told that was your room and dinner would be ready within the hour. This was absurdly funny in two ways: the first being that this was probably his way of being a ‘nice guy’, and the second being that he actually thought you would eat with him.

You were left alone with a locked door. The small ground-level windows near the ceiling were barred. In the bathroom there were exactly zero mirrors. There were also no cabinets, no shower rod, no shower door, no plunger, nothing. In the bedroom there was no furniture. No bedframe, no dresser, not even a chair. Upon further inspection you realized your bed was just two mattresses on top of each other. You were impressed as they must think you’re so skilled that you could turn a box spring into a murder weapon.

You chuckled at how ridiculous this was. At Joseph’s you had a _razor_ in the bathroom. How remarkable. You assumed this was John’s first way of breaking you even more, but he would never admit that. He would claim this is because of the conversation from church. He was clever. He could deprive you of basic amenities while pretending it’s for your own safety. Such a heart of gold.

You had to put the same clothes on after you showered since John’s promise of buying you whatever you needed fell through. A knocking at your door announced a visitor. The lock clicked and a nondescript male cultist a bit older than John informed you that dinner was ready. You wanted to refuse but simply didn't have the energy.

You followed him upstairs and into an elaborate dining room. The long table was comically set for two, in the center, across each other. John was plating food and smiled when you entered. He seemed to be trying to put the car episode behind him. “I think this will help bring up your energy.”

You sat at the table and stared at the food. Salmon, wild asparagus, and some Mediterranean style salad with tomatoes and feta cheese. It looked delicious.

John blessed the food and set his napkin on his lap while you sat motionless. It really did look great, but you weren’t in any mood to eat. Perhaps later you could convince someone to bring you leftovers.

When John saw you weren’t eating he stopped and put his elbows on the table, his hands clasped under his chin.  
“What’s wrong? The food isn’t to your liking?” You shook your head a centimeter to each side. “It looks great, I’m just… not in the mood.” He squinted his eyes at you and licked his teeth beneath his lips.  
“Were you like this at Joseph’s?” He sounded like he was accusing you of something. “What is that supposed to mean?” You retorted, genuinely confused. “I saw the way you look at him, walking hand in hand.”  
You were shocked. John was Joseph’s brother- he knew how his brother treated others, and you were no different. “Joseph was just being nice to me, like he is with everyone else.” You hoped John would snap out of it. It was making you sad to think about how Joseph treated you, fake or not.

“I know my brother. It was different.”

“Yeah, well, he also never struck me. Maybe that’s why.”

“You should really eat something.”

“I’m not hungry, I already ate all the soap in my room trying to kill myself.”

John chuckled and abruptly pushed himself away from the table. He walked around the table, until he was behind you with his hands on the back of your chair. It creaked slightly as he leaned forward. A chill traveled down your neck as you felt his breath near your left ear. “I told you I never leave my work unfinished. Let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i hope to have the next chapter out by next weekend. it might get a bit wild but that's why we're all here amirite


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